Just trying out a fic for Avengers, may not continue. This is set after they've been working together for a while, so they're comfortable with each other. This is on a mission, and Natasha had a nightmare so Clint stays with her. This is mostly Clint's thoughts and him reminiscing. Also, when I mention 'partners' it refers to work. Clintasha if you squint.
Rated T for mentions of violence and torture.
"You won't leave me, will you?" Natasha whispered, her voice breathy and unsure. She and Clint lay on the bed, facing each other. The room was cold and dim, but they could still see each other clearly. Clint reached out a hand to trace her features, trailing his hand over her lips, her eyes, her nose, her mouth.
"Never," he told her, sweeping her bangs back with a hand. She closed her eyes and exhaled shakily.
"Thank you…" she murmured. Clint's heart clenched with a pang of guilt. This young little girl had her childhood ripped away from her the moment she entered that wretched place. She had been neglected, abused her whole life, to the point she was grateful for the smallest of things. Gratitude was one thing, and this was another.
Clint reached out to take her hand, running her calloused fingers over her pale skin. He wished he could've done more to save her, her to protect her. If only he had taken her sooner, found her earlier. He didn't know the full extent of the trauma, but he'd skimmed through her medical fires and it was horrifying to say the least. She was only 19 when she had defected, but she'd been through so much already.
Natasha had told him some of the details, but was very closed off when it came to the topic of the Red Room. She had killed other girls at the age of 8. Been raped by grown men. Killed countless people. Had her fingernails torn off. Shot and been shot.
Clint knew that Natasha was not a perfect person. She had done terrible things to hundreds of people, but other often overlooked the abuse she had faced. If they knew the slightest bit of what had happened to her, Clint knew they would be shocked.
So when he was told to kill the Black Widow, he didn't. He looked through the facade and saw a broken girl. A girl that needed him. She had begged to make the favour up to him countless times, with various methods. He had rejected them all, and after all this time, she had saved his ass more than enough times to make that favour up.
The first he had seen her cry was when she had a nightmare. Four months of being partners during a mission, she had a nightmare. She woke up screaming, and Clint ran it. He saw her, handcuffed to her bed. It was a technique the Red Room used to keep girls obedient. Natasha had sobbed, begging him to leave her, but he had stayed with her the entire night, his hand wrapped around her wrist. She didn't tell him, but she felt safe that night. Not the cold metal cuff of the handcuff wrapped tightly around her wrist, but his warm, gentle fingers.
Clint sees Natasha cry, laugh, scream, and sob. He's there with her when she had her PTSD episodes, when she has panic attacks, and when she cries because she's laughing so hard. Through the good and the bad, he is with her.
"Forever and always, Nat, forever and always."
